


don't bleed with me

by apetitan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Reincarnation, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apetitan/pseuds/apetitan
Summary: For a moment, it was quiet. And then, Eren, with his heart beating wildly in his chest, found his words and opened his mouth:“You’re as skilled in flying in this life as your past one, even on a broomstick.”The man’s grip around Eren’s throat had loosened very slightly, as if he was caught in a brief moment of surprise. Eren let himself inhale a breath of air.“So you do remember.”





	don't bleed with me

**Author's Note:**

> uh, so hi there, it's my first fic so im kinda !!! i just basically sat my ass down the entire afternoon and here's the product of that. sorry in advance if there were any typos 'cause i didn't proofread it that much. hope you like it! 
> 
> p.s. title came from the song "intertwined" by dodie. 
> 
> p.p.s. listen to it. later.

Eren had never been a heavy sleeper—even before he had joined Hogwarts, he found that just the slightest bits of sounds would pull him out of his sleep. Voices seeping in through walls, footsteps from above, the branches of a tree tapping against his overhead window, the howling of the wind or the crackling thunder in the distance. Sometimes, even the sound of rats scurrying would wake him up.

It was normal. That was normal, and Eren would go back to sleep and plunge right back into his dreams about slaying fire-breathing dragons again.

But tonight was different.

Tonight was a light creak of the door opening, followed by footsteps. The light from the hallways poured in through the crack, lighting the back of Eren’s eyelids with an orange glow. Eren tried to even out his breathing, even as his heart was going at a thousand miles per hour.

Tonight was different, because Eren knew he had been the last to fall asleep among his roommates. He knew everyone was already tucked in their beds before he did, asleep and dreaming. None of them had a habit of sleep-walking, and none of them had left their room—otherwise, Eren would have definitely heard. And besides, getting caught outside your room hours past curfew would warrant you detention. Eren racked his brains for students who’d be stupid or brave enough do that, but couldn’t think of anyone—except maybe Connie or himself.

So who was this person breaking into their room? A stubborn, rule-breaking student? A professor? Smith? Brenzka? Bozado? Headmaster Pixis, even, but why? If Eren clenched his jaw harder he might’ve broken his own teeth.

Eren cracked open his eyes slightly. His heart jumped, sucking in a quiet breath when he saw a cloaked figure creeping towards the bed next to his in the darkness. Armin’s.

The floorboards creaked under their weight, the footsteps quick and hasty but heavy, no time to be discreet. Every step made a small, thumping sound. It was apparent this person’s priority wasn’t exactly being quiet.

And then Eren saw their pale hand extend towards Armin.

Heart in his throat, Eren immediately patted around his bed for his wand as discreetly as he could and clutched it tight in his hand when he found it, keeping the rest of his body as still as he can. He scanned through the list of spells in his head. _Expelliarmus_ —but that’s kind of useless; they weren't even armed. _Riddikulus_ was even more so. _Stupefy_ was good, but he might accidentally hit Armin if he wasn’t careful. What else? _What else?_

Mikasa would know what to do. Eren’s mind was racing, eyes trained on the person’s fingers. He almost choked with relief when the fingers only grasped around the handle of Armin’s broomstick.

And then, as quickly as they went in, they were gone.

Without hesitation, Eren hastily put on his cloak, took his wand and own broomstick and bolted out the door, uncaring of the consequences he’d face later on. His footsteps echoed loudly as he chased the figure down the hallway. The thief glanced back, startled at the sound, but Eren barely saw a glimpse of their face before they broke into a sprint themselves.

“Stop!” Eren yelled, gritting his teeth. “You dirty, cowardly thief!”

It wasn’t really a good idea. The theif only ran faster. And shit, did they run at a faster speed than Eren, the figure almost disappearing into the darkness. But Eren had an advantage—he _knew_ Hogwarts. He’d been roaming the school for years now, and knew all the winding paths and hallways like the back of his hand.

He knew exactly where this hallway lead to—right into a dead-end.

Eren smirked when the thief slowed down, seemingly realizing that there was nowhere else to go. They glanced back at Eren, and Eren, ever the loudmouth, was ready to shout his triumph, when the thief suddenly mounted Armin’s broomstick and flew out of an open window and into the night.

“God damn it,” Eren muttered, cursing his luck, and mounted his _Nimbus 2000_ to follow the thief.

The chase turned to an aerial one. Judging by the way Armin’s broomstick was wobbling and unsteady, the their was probably a first-timer—a beginner, at most, but Eren saw how quickly the thief adjusted to flying on a broomstick, and clenched his teeth, leaning forward to garner more speed. This was not going to be as easy as he had thought.

Too soon, the figure was nearing the edge of Hogwarts property. Beyond that was the Dark Forest. Eren knew he would have to do stop the thief soon, and quickly. Wasting time wasn’t an option. Any longer and he might not be able to chase the thief down, especially if it involved lurking in the Dark Forest.

So Eren arched over his broomstick. Raised his legs up and tucked it between his chest and the broomstick, trying to find his center of gravity and settling it over the width of the broomstick. He tried to ignore the daunting altitude as he tried crouched up, but his footing becoming wobbly when he did. His feet slipped and he almost fell—fuck, _fuck_ —years of Quiddich practice trained him for this—this should have been easy, because—

Even before Quiddich. Even before this life. The maneuver gear—Eren always had a natural talent at flying. The wind whipping against his face, land rushing past beneath him, him, closer to the sky he’s ever been. This was supposed to be easy. This was—familiar.

It seemed like flying was a recurring theme in his lives.

Eren’s heartbeat slowed a little, as if the thought of his strange memories—dreams—whatever they really are—calmed his nerves.

_“Find your center of gravity. Your balance.”_

_It was a low, commanding voice. Hands on either sides of his hips, warm and firm and gentle, guiding him. Eren’s body meekly followed, obediently, of its own volition, as if it were chasing the touch. Nimble fingers inched upwards, counting each of Eren’s ribs through the thin shirt, brushing past his sternum, where Eren’s heart thundered, his collarbone, the column of his neck, where his pulse fluttered, until they reached Eren’s cheek, thumb lightly brushing underneath his eyes._

_It was nothing sexual, yet Eren had never felt so strongly like this before, like he was bursting inside at the feeling, ripping apart his existence at the seams._

_“You’d never be able to spin like I do if you don’t have complete control of yourself,” the same voice murmured._

_“I don’t think I’d ever be able to compete with you,” Eren heard himself say, quietly, helplessly, fondly._

The memory almost blinded Eren, who found himself blinking and his heart aching. He wondered why, of all times, had he remembered that. However, it was over as soon as it came, and he had no time to dwell on it.

Even more determined than before, Eren put a foot on the broomstick once again. Steadied himself, until he was able to crouch and balance a knee beside his foot. With a jerk, he lifted himself and pulled his knee upward until both feet were on the stick, holding the entire weight of his body.

“Come back here!” Eren yelled, one of his hands still clutching his broomstick, willing it to go faster.

And then, with a yell, Eren, that suicidal bastard, with his momentum, leaped forward, across the short distance, and wrapped his arms around the torso of the thief, knocking him off of Armin’s broomstick with his weight.

They crashed through the window, the glass shattering loudly all around them. Eren had landed on top and the thief took most of the harsh landing. Eren tried not to be satisfied at the pained groan underneath him.

“You’re one nasty, troublesome little _fuck_ ,” a gruff, male voice spat beneath him.

Before the man could move any further, Eren had already recovered from the fall, pinning both of the man’s wrists to the ground with a single hand and putting a knee down against the man’s chest. He tried to buck Eren off, and—when Eren put more of his weight on his knee—yelled when the broken shards of glass cut through what was exposed of his alabaster skin.

Eren felt, more than saw, the man’s breath rush out of his lungs under Eren’s weight. He hurled Armin’s broomstick to the furthest wall. Even then, the man’s head was turned away to the darkness, the upper half of his face still covered by his cloak.

From here, under the moonlight, Eren could see the tip of his nose, and the beginnings of the curve of his upper lip.

And then the man’s silky black hair.

Eren paused as his pulse raced, own heartbeat deafening his ears—not a lot of people had black hair. He could only think of a handful of people—less than 5—and, one of them—

 _No, it can’t be._ Eren tried to wave all his delusions away.

In his impatience, Eren clutched the man’s collar and tried to tug his face towards the moonlight. The man struggled against Eren’s grip, turning his face to the ground and twisting underneath Eren’s weight. “Fuck off!” he all but sneered. His eyes were shut tightly.

Eren loosened his grip, until he let go altogether. And when he did, the man’s eyes slowly blinked open.

Eren froze. Felt himself pale and his stomach drop. Before the man could even blink, Eren had pulled the hood completely off the stranger’s head, heart thundering in his ribs.

The moonlight that filtered in from the broken window was strong enough to let Eren see the thief’s face, yet he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Because he would recognize those eyes, that nose, that mouth—God, that mouth—anywhere, in his sleep. But only in his dreams.

Maybe this was a nasty hallucination. A prank of some sort, or a sick joke. It couldn’t be real. However, everything else told him that this was, in fact, real—the slight pain on his shoulders, the solidity of the man’s body beneath him.

Eren was at a loss for words, his mind still reeling. In a split second and a turn of fate, the man had wrapped his wounded, bruised fingers tight around Eren’s neck and had his body pinned against the nearest brick wall.

The same fingers that held him with warmth and gentleness in his dreams.

Eren shut his eyes. Those fingers didn’t do anything but simply hold, but Eren’s hands had instinctively come up to wrap around the man’s wrist.

“Who are you?”

There was a sharp breathless exhale, like a soundless chuckle, as the man seemingly collected himself. In the dark, his eyes seemed to glint dangerously with a promise of revenge. After all, he’d gotten multiple cuts from the glass shards digging through his skin, and, at the very least, a bruised shoulder and back from the way he had landed earlier.

However, all traces of the man’s previous struggle was wiped from his voice. His voice was all smooth and low and quiet, like it belonged to someone who knew how to speak Parseltongue. “I don’t think you’re in the position to ask me questions, hm?”

Eren allowed himself to roam the man’s face, angular and bony, from his chiseled nose to the arrogant line of his jaw. His dark hair parted to the side, giving way to pale skin, his lids narrowed down to a glare.

“You should’ve just pretended be asleep,” he said almost nonchalantly, as if none of this was out of the ordinary. Eren still couldn’t speak, lips still slightly parted in disbelief. “You wouldn’t have to deal with me if you did.”

For a moment, it was quiet. And then, Eren, with his heart beating wildly in his chest, found his words and opened his mouth:

“You’re as skilled in flying in this life as your past one, even on a broomstick.”

The man’s grip around Eren’s throat had loosened very slightly, as if he was caught in a brief moment of surprise. Eren let himself inhale a breath of air.

“So you do remember.”

Only a few parts, Eren wanted to say.

Eren remembered—of course, the gigantic, naked monsters. Blood, lots of it. Overlapping wings that symbolized freedom. He thought it might be an insignia of some division in the military. He remembered his two best friends, the blonde and the raven. They were still with him in his life—Eren supposed there were some things that was stronger than death. He also remembered the female blonde monster, and the beast. His heart ached in the strangest ways when he thought of them.

And then there was the Corporal. Despite his short stature, he was infinitely stronger than the rest. Worth a legion, they used to say. The man had saved Eren’s life multiple times—even broke his ankle while doing so.

Eren remembered feeling like a burden. He also remembered the Corporal reminding him, in his own, harsh, brutal way of speaking, that Eren wasn’t. And later on—in the privacy of a room—the reminder was in the form of fingers soothingly running through his hair as he drifted off to sleep.

Yes, he remembered. In this life, Eren would lie in bed during the longest of nights, trying, in vain, to desperately chase memories of the Corporal, thinking of who he really was in Eren’s life.

In front of him, Eren realized, with startling clarity, what the Corporal was to him. That what he felt went far and beyond hero worship.

Eren exhaled through his mouth shakily, like he’d just been punched in the gut. “What—what were you doing here?”

Silence.

“What are you running away from?”

Silence.

“Why were you escaping?”

Stone cold silence. The man’s eyes stared hard at him, dangerous and predatory, but his lips remained sealed.

So Eren changed his questions and laced them with taunts instead.

“Are you going to beat me up like last—last time, like in the—the court—”

That seemed to pull out a reaction. “You gotta learn how to shut up, or your mouth’s gonna get you killed someday,” he growled.

The response was immediate, unfiltered words pouring out of Eren’s mouth before he could stop them. “I already died once—”

The man pulled and then shoved him back against the wall. His expression darkened, but he seemed distracted enough that his fingers became loose around Eren’s throat. “Being a sarcastic little shit won’t get you anywhere.”

The man’s cloak had shifted. The dark cloth that covered his left arm slid down to reveal—

Eren’s heart raced. “The Dark Mark!”

The man’s eyes snapped down and he pulled his cloak over his arm. His eyes flickered up to Eren. “It’s none of your concern.”

“What are you _doing_?” Eren said shakily. The Dark Mark on his arm meant he was a Death Eater, a follower of... No, the Corporal wouldn’t do so voluntarily, would he? He would always be in the good side. He was a hero who always favored what he thought was right. He wouldn’t… Eren knew he wouldn’t. Yet he couldn’t help but think that this man was different from before, from the man Eren knew.

“You’re not in trouble, are you? What the _fuck_ are you trying to hope to achieve by—”

“Stop asking so many fucking questions,” the man snapped, a muscle in his jaw twitching, his face now so much closer than before. Eren could count his lashes if he wanted. “Your mouth always landed you in trouble, even before—”

“You kissed this mouth before, you fucking bastard!” he yelled.

Eren’s had enough of it. He’d finally found the man, he was finally in front of Eren, yet they couldn’t even make a proper conversation without yelling at each other. Everything went quiet quickly, the air thickening with tension. The man leaned away, the moonlight shining on the panes of his face making it look sharper, and Eren immediately felt colder.

“I shouldn’t have,” he replied coolly.

He could have slapped Eren across the face and it would hurt the same.

 

The hurt showed so plainly on his face that the man became quiet. His eyes, which remained on Eren, were unwavering, his face visibly softened, harsh lines and glare tapering down. And then, quietly, after a moment: “What we did was wrong—but I never said I regret it.”

Eren swallowed. That’d been the answer he had wanted to hear—well, at least the latter part, but he still couldn’t believe his ears, couldn’t resist saying, “What?” He couldn’t help the deafening rush of his blood in his ears, couldn’t help but notice how the man had phrased the words. “Regret? Not regrett _ed_?”

“Don’t make me fucking repeat myself,” the man said, and Eren felt his heart pound at the faintest, faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, until the man seemed to catch himself and put his stony expression back, sighing. “Look, it’d be better for both of us if you forget me.”

Eren suddenly felt ice cold. Not for the first time that night, all he had to say was, “Wait, what?”

The man pinned him with a glare. “You’re a Hogwarts student. I’m a Death Eater. You caught me here, in Hogwarts, where I shouldn’t be in, while stealing something—which I obviously shouldn’t be doing. If you haven’t noticed, we’re at two opposite sides of war.” He sighed. And then, more weakly, “This… was not planned. I didn’t plan on running into you. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s better if you don’t remember all of this, because if you do… I don’t think any force in the world could stop you from trying to find me.”

He pulled out a wand from underneath his cloak.

Eren all but panicked.

“No.” He knew what the man was about to do. He clutched the man’s wrist tightly, and pulling and scratching at the bloodied knuckles. It was all happening too quickly. “No. Don’t do it.”

The man didn’t say anything, just raised his wand in front of Eren.

“ _Stop!_ ”

“ _Oblivia_ —”

“LEVI!” Eren cried, fingernails digging into his flesh. He was going to take away Eren’s memories, the only thing he had of Levi. “Stop it,” he shouted. “ _Stop_ —why are you _doing_ this?”

Levi was back to stony silence again, but he had lowered his wand.

“Just come with me,” Eren pleaded, words tumbling out of his mouth, unable to stop himself, still stricken by panic. “The Headmaster—Pixis—he wouldn’t turn you away. He’ll pull you out of trouble, whatever trouble you’re in—Hogwarts—” he choked, and then tried again. “This isn’t what you want. Being a Death Eater isn’t what you want. Say it.”

The man’s grip tightened, his eyes sharpening, and Eren choked, lungs denied of air. “You don’t know a single thing about me or what I want, or what sort of situation I’m in.”

“I knew you.” The words were said slowly and shakily. “I know you, you i-idiot. The little—things. You liked t-tea. And you held—cups with only the tips of your fingers—”

Levi’s face didn’t change. “You think you can convince me with just that?”

“You—” Eren was cut off with a cough, “—hated unnecessary death.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed, but stayed quiet.

“When we were being chased—you told me to not regret my choices and that—that nobody, not even you, would know how—how things would—”

“Stop.” It was said quietly, with a look that spoke volumes.

“In the c-courtroom—you called me a—monster.”

“Stop it.”

“You liked cleaning. Maybe—in an even o-obsessive way. ”

Eren’s fingers slowly moved up the tattoo on his arm. Down his collarbones.

“All your m-mannerisms that you thought I d-didn’t notice. Your ac-accent that only comes—out when you’re furious.”

Eren reveled in the way Levi’s breath caught as his hand settled on Levi’s chest, and clutched the fabric there, pulling him impossibly closer, the way they hadn’t—couldn’t—before, publicly, in their past life.

“Ackerman. Levi A-Ackerman,” Eren rasped out. “Is that still—your name?”

“Shut up.”

Eren’s air was thinning, breath running out. His head felt heavy and tight, like it was about to pop. In a burst of desperation, Eren rasped, “When I d-died, you said that you—”

Levi slammed Eren’s whole body once again against the brick walls. The back of Eren’s head hit the wall, and Eren saw stars.

“Shut up—I don’t want to—remember—” Levi said. He looked almost—horrified. “Stop— _stop_.”

But he didn’t move away as Eren’s fingers crawled upwards. Brushing past his sternum, where his heart beat wildly through his cloak, his collarbone, the pale column of his neck, where his pulse fluttered, until they reached Levi’s pale cheek, thumb brushing underneath those bruised eyes of his.

Levi clearly remembered this memory. It was written plain as day on his face; there was a war of thoughts clouding his cool blue eyes, as if he were struggling with himself, and only Eren could see it.

“Your eyes.”

Eren only noticed it now—one was a pale blue, while the other one was much, much paler—white.

“You’re—nearly b-blind.”

Levi didn’t say anything, just slowly closed his eyes and let Eren’s thumbs brush lightly over them. Even as Levi was choking his breath away, Eren couldn’t let himself do anything but hold Levi’s face as tenderly as he could.

“L-Let me help you.”

“And what?” Levi’s eyes snapped open, and now they were burning bright. “You want to play hero again? You want to get hurt because of me? Die because of me?”

 _Again_ , Levi seemed to say. _Do you want to die again because of me?_

“Don’t try get involved, or—”

Both of their heads snapped up when there were alarmed voices outside, down the hallway, and Levi finally released Eren, whose body dropped to the floor, inhaling a lungful of air as he wheezed and coughed. Through the blurriness of his vision, he caught sight of Levi picking up Armin's broomstick, but didn’t make a move to stop him, limbs trembling.

“Levi.”

Levi stopped in front of the broken window, his back towards Eren.

“You’ll come back, right?” Eren’s voice was quiet with use, throat gone tender. “I’ll see you again, won’t I?”

Levi looked back once. The voices were getting louder, closer. But Levi had stopped to stare at Eren, mismatched eyes running down Eren’s face and neck and chest and arms and legs, as if he was etching Eren in his memory. And then his eyes snapped back up to Eren’s, giving him one last final look, a million unreadable things swimming underneath those eyes.

And then Levi was gone.

Eren smiled faintly, before the edges of his vision started to darken and he passed out.

Levi’s look over his shoulder meant everything.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm leaving it on a kind of open ending, and this is just a one shot, so that's that. maybe i'll add like a continuation of it in the future, idk? sorry if it was kinda all over the place (i feel like levi switched moods 5 times) and not really 1000% HOGWARTS AS SHIT.
> 
> comments and kudos would be very much appreciated, thanks, and if you spot any typos, lemme know!
> 
> p.p.p.s. i know people are too lazy to search for that song i recommended (it's ok i relate), so here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaHrWLCUmfc
> 
> edit: i reread it and spotted like a dozen typos, oh my god. on a side note, please please comment and tell me what you think, i'd LOVE to hear about it.
> 
> my tw acc: @erenjager (let's be friends and talk about ereri)


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